


Waterlogged

by ArtemisRayne



Series: May Look at a King - A Newsies Felisian AU [20]
Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Felisian, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Body Image, Caretaking, Cat Ears, Cat/Human Hybrids, Established Relationship, Felisian!Jack, Fluff, M/M, Mild Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 05:12:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19805461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemisRayne/pseuds/ArtemisRayne
Summary: Jack has no particular aversion to water, so long as his head stays above the surface. He doesn't, however, enjoy being dumped ears over tail into the stuff.





	Waterlogged

Like all felisians, Jack doesn't particularly love the assumptions that people make about him that are based on housecats. He's an adult, and he's more than used to the comments and expectations by now, so he's not going to get all butt-hurt about it, but that doesn't mean he appreciates them. It's easier to deal with if he beats people to it, cracking jokes and playing them off at his own expense. Besides, the majority of the assumptions people make are completely ridiculous. 

No, he doesn't chase mice. It's not that he's afraid of them or anything, but this is New York, the mice have rabies and shit.

No, he doesn't love milk. Well, sure, he doesn't mind a bit on cereal or something, but drinking milk just gives him an awful stomachache. He can happily live without it. (Although cheese is another story entirely, and worth some occasional indigestion.) 

No, he's not scared of dogs. He loves dogs, especially the big, drooly mutt that lives in the apartment below them. His name's Bronco, and Jack likes to sneak him treats.

No, he's not about to chase your damn laser pointer. If he does occasionally get distracted by shiny things and reflections of light, that's just because he's admittedly a bit ADD, not because he feels like he needs to hunt them down or something.

And you can fuck right off with that catnip because no, it won't make him high, it just smells weird and sticks to everything. 

One of those common misconceptions that people have about felisians is that they hate the water, which is just stupid. Personally, Jack loves swimming. Yeah, sure, maybe it's a little annoying that it takes so long for his tail to dry out after, but that's not enough to keep him out of the pool in the summer. And he's been accused, more than once, of taking overly-long showers; he can't help that it takes a while to wash all the paint off, and if that gloriously hot water happens to run low, oh well, that's what Race gets for sleeping in and not taking his shower first.

Jack has no particular aversion to water, so long as his head stays above the surface. He doesn't, however, enjoy being dumped ears over tail into the stuff.

The end of term is creeping closer every day, bringing with it both constant stress and better weather. Mush and Blink's fancy Midtown apartment complex has a rooftop pool, and the weekend that it officially opens up, Jack gets a group text inviting them all to celebrate. The day in question is just barely considered warm enough for swimming, and there's a breeze this high up that makes them all shiver when they get out of the water, the cold air turning damp skin to ice. 

It's still a good time, though. They all need the chance to unwind before they snap beneath the pressure of exams. So they roughhouse in the water, guys clambering on each other and dunking heads and splashing. Henry is declared the official champion of Chicken, while Boots slips into the water just long enough to school them all at volleyball. Davey blushes scarlet when the fellas tease him about his tattoo - which the majority of them didn't know existed - until he eventually tackles Romeo into the pool in revenge, to uproarious applause. 

They're getting close to calling it a day, the sun almost hidden behind the skyscrapers and stealing the warmth from their little rooftop patio, when it happens. In whole, the thing takes only a matter of seconds. Albert is showing off, doing backflips off the patio furniture. Then he lands one wrong, tripping and falling against Buttons, who slams into Jack, and all three of them fall in a tangled knot of limbs. 

Between one breath and the next, Jack's submerged. 

It happened so fast he doesn't have a chance to prepare himself, so by the time Jack thinks to cover his ears, it's already too late. The rush of pressure is instantaneous, deafeningly loud as water floods into his ears. Funnel-shaped, a felisian's ear does very little to prevent intrusions, but it's much harder to get things out if they make it passed the sharp angle of the ear canal. The water sits cold and heavy in his elongated inner ear, amplifying higher frequencies straight into his eardrum like needles.

Jack kicks out, flailing, but he can't tell which way is up. Despite the burn of chlorine, Jack forces his eyes open to look for light right before a hand closes around his bicep and pulls. He coughs out mouthfuls of bitter water when he breaks the surface, and the clamor of noise almost makes him want to duck underwater again, voices shouting over each other in dizzying layers. Jack shakes his head vigorously, trying to dislodge the water from his ears.

"Jack? Jesus, fuck, I'm so sorry!" Albert's voice is right next to him, loud and painful, and Jack doesn't even realize he's hissed until it's out of his mouth. It must scare Albert - who Jack distantly realizes must be the one who pulled him back to the surface - into retreating, and now Jack's angry and embarrassed for two reasons. He can barely see, nothing more than blurs of color around him as his eyes recover from the chlorine, but his vision is the lesser concern as he rubs desperately at his ears in an attempt to alleviate the discomfort. 

Then suddenly there's a new hand on his shoulder, and even with his vision foggy, Jack knows who's standing in front of him. "Hey, you're okay," Davey practically whispers. "C'mon, let's get you outta the water." The world is tilting under his feet, the water in his ears throwing off his equilibrium, as Jack lets Davey lead him to the edge of the pool. He clambers out and sits heavily on the concrete, giving his head another experimental shake. 

There are people all around him, talking over each other, and the sound is agony. "Guys, calm the fuck down, m'fine," he says, flapping a dismissive hand at them. "S'just water." Jack can see again, although his eyes are still dry and stinging. The slosh of water inside his head isn't quite so bad, most of it shaken out, but he's been through this before, and he knows it will be hours before he starts to feel steady again. 

"Ya heard the guy," Specs chips in, obviously picking up on the cue because he's a saint and knows Jack too well. "He's fine. So go, _vaminos_ , wouldja? If he starts meltin' like the Wicked Witch, ya can come back and watch that."

Davey is the only one who doesn't leave Jack's side, wrapping a towel around Jack's shoulders and sitting so their arms touch. He doesn't hover, doesn't ask Jack if he's okay, just waits while Jack collects himself. Sounds are warping in and out like an old radio, and Jack can feel the water clinging heavily to the delicate hairs inside his ears. Finally, Jack turns and drops his forehead onto Davey's shoulder with a noise that even he knows is downright pitiful. "My head hurts," he whines. 

With a soft, sympathetic hum, Davey's fingers knead the back of Jack's neck. "Wanna go home?" he asks, voice still pitched low so it isn't as painful to Jack's ears, and Jack warms at the consideration. 

No, Jack doesn't want to go home. He wants to stay and enjoy this day off with his friends and not be sidelined by his stupid fucking ears. If he was normal, this wouldn't have been anything more than a funny accident. But he can also feel that needle-sharp prickle building at the base of his skull that usually precedes a sensory migraine, and he really doesn't want to go through the humiliation of _that_ in front of his friends too. Besides, they're easier to deal with in familiar settings. So he swallows his pride and murmurs, "Please." 

Davey doesn't question it, just stands and offers his hands out. They tug on their shoes and gather up their things from the deck chair where they abandoned them earlier. It's a habit at this point to wrap his arm around Davey as they walk, but right now it has the added benefit of letting Davey guide him while the world keeps pitching under him like the deck of the Titanic.

"Hey guys, we're gonna head home," Davey announces to the others. "I'm freezing, and I gotta work in the morning." Jack appreciates Davey's attempt to downplay, even though their friends clearly don't buy it as they say their goodbyes. Specs tells Jack to text him later about some made-up homework assignment, which Jack knows is just an excuse to check on him. Boots - the only other felisian in their friend group - gives him a knowing look as she murmurs a quiet goodbye and tells them both pointedly to get some sleep. 

It surprises Jack when they get down to the sidewalk and Davey flags down a taxi. "Like I wanna go on the train sopping wet," says Davey, smirking as he opens the door for Jack. As much as Jack wants to be humiliated by the obvious deflection, he's mostly just relieved when they slip into the backseat. The sounds of the street are already painful enough; he can't imagine how awful riding the subway would've been. 

Davey gives the cabbie the address while Jack tucks his head into Davey's collar. He folds his ears flat in an attempt to muffle the sounds of the traffic and the car's engine and the low volume music on the cab's radio that feels like it's compressing his skull from every direction. Davey curls an arm around Jack's shoulders, a vain effort to shield Jack from the noise, but Jack still smiles as he presses his forehead to the side of Davey's neck. 

The whole world is wavering so much Jack can't tell the cab is stopped until Davey rubs a hand between his shoulders. "We're home, Jacky," he murmurs. He helps Jack out of the car and guides him up to the apartment. Davey kicks off his shoes and then turns to cup Jack's cheek in a palm gently. "You should take a shower. That chlorine smell is giving _me_ a headache, I can't imagine what it's doing to your nose." 

Jack can't deny there's appeal in the idea, even if more water is sort of the last thing he wants to deal with right now. The bitter chemical stench of the chlorine clinging to his skin and hair is overpowering, biting at his already sore senses. "Yeah," he agrees, but when Davey makes to step back, Jack clutches the hand against his cheek. He grins. "But I'm a bit dizzy. Might need some help so I don't fall down." 

Davey smiles, rolling his eyes in a fond gesture. "That so?" he says, amused. "You remember what happened the last time we tried that? Your shower really isn't big enough for two people." 

"Made it work though," Jack points out. "And I mean, ya wouldn't wanna let me fall and hurt myself, right? Folks die all the time from fallin' in the bath, ya know." Davey laughs, shaking his head. "'Sides, ya said the smell's buggin' you too, wouldn't wanna make ya deal with it longer. And we can conserve water and all that. Good for the environment. How many more 'scuses I gotta make 'fore you give in?" 

"Incorrigible," says Davey, but it comes out the way it always does, with a pleased smile and exasperation that's clearly faked. He laces their fingers together and heads for the bathroom, and Jack grins triumphantly. Sure, he's still not happy about having to deal with his stupid ears, but damn if he's not going to make sure he at least gets something good out of it. 

The shower stall really is tiny, the two of them pressed together beneath the spray of hot water, but Jack has a hard time seeing that as a bad thing. Davey bats Jack's hands away when he reaches for the shampoo, and Jack's heart melts when Davey instead pours shampoo into his hand and begins gently massaging it into Jack's scalp. Davey's touch is tender, carefully cupping his palm around Jack's ears to prevent water or soap getting inside them as he rinses his hair. 

"How's your head?" Davey asks as he cards a sudsy hand through his own hair. 

"Ain't gonna have no blood left in it, you keep treatin' me this good," Jack teases. Davey laughs, blushing. Jack runs his hands admiringly along Davey's body, tracing the long, lean lines of his arms and torso, fingertips chasing the ribbons of warm water as they roll over his skin. He suddenly begrudges the little shower a bit because, from this close, Jack can't see the whole picture, everything from the damp hair plastered to his skull all the way to his pale feet splayed on the old, discolored tiles. 

"Fuck, how'd I get so lucky?" Jack murmurs, smiling, and he ducks in to capture the laugh that blossoms on Davey's lips. 

"You make a good coffee, that's how," Davey jokes when Jack finally lets him breathe again. "But if you keep moving around that much, we really are gonna fall out of the shower." 

Jack huffs dismissively, shifting his attention to Davey's neck, and then he withdraws with a grimace. "Ugh, nope, ya still smell like pool," he says. He reaches over Davey's shoulder to grab the body wash. "Gotta make you smell good so I can cuddle ya." 

Davey laughs. "You mean you want to make me smell like you because you're a caveman."

"Nah, this's purely medical," Jack counters playfully. "Good smells help the headache." Davey rolls his eyes, but Jack still hears the faint hitch in his breath when Jack drags the washcloth across his collarbone and up the side of his neck. Grinning, Jack leans in and hums. "See, head feels better already." 

"If I wasn't genuinely worried about us falling and cracking our heads open..." Davey trails off pointedly, his eyes a shade darker when they meet Jack's. 

Jack moans. "No fair, don't tease me like that." As much as Jack really wants to hold Davey to his word there, the ache of his inner ears and the knives inside his brain are putting up a good counter-argument. 

"Give me that," says Davey, taking the washcloth from Jack's grip. "At the rate you're going, we'll be in here all day, and you need to lie down." 

"Twenty-two minutes, tops," Jack retorts. Davey pauses in scrubbing the washcloth over his arm to raise a questioning eyebrow. "S'how long it takes for the hot water ta' run out. Ain't gonna wanna stay in here longer 'an that."

And Davey laughs brightly, his eyes warm and fond, as he goes back to cleaning the chlorine smell off them both. 

It feels like nothing short of a miracle when they finally make it to the bedroom. Jack tugs on a pair of briefs but doesn't bother with pants, since he hasn't dried his tail more than a quick squeeze of the towel and it'll just get his clothes all wet. Flopping down on his stomach across the bed, Jack drapes his tail off the edge and buries his face in the pillow so he can't see the world tilting anymore. "I ain't movin' ever 'gain," he says without lifting his head. Davey must understand anyway because he chuckles. 

Curiosity getting the better of him, Jack tips his head to the side to see what his boyfriend is doing just as Davey pulls one of Jack's tees over his head. He's also put on a pair of Jack's sweatpants, which are a little too short in the leg, and when Davey turns his back for a moment, Jack grins. "Hey babe, don't look now but I think ya got a hole in your pants." 

"Ha ha," Davey says dryly, tugging the hem of the shirt down a little further to cover the hole in the seat of the pants meant for a tail. He crosses over to perch on the bed by Jack's hip, combing a hand through his hair gently. "Now, dirty jokes aside, how's your head really?" 

"Not too bad," Jack says, leaning into the touch. "Gettin' one of those headaches though. Stupid fuckin' ears." 

"At least they're pretty," Davey teases, even as he strokes his knuckles down one softly. "So you've got that going for you." Jack snorts. Davey brushes a hand down Jack's side. "You're shivering. You need to dry off, your tail's still soaked." 

Jack grumbles, burrowing into the pillow again. "Takes forever," he whines. "Just wanna sleep." 

Davey huffs, exasperated. "I'm gonna get you some water," Davey says. "You should take one of your migraine pills." He strokes the felisian's back again before standing. "Do you have hydrogen peroxide somewhere?" 

That's enough to grab Jack's attention, and he glances over his shoulder. "Might be some in the bathroom cupboard, why?" 

"To dry out your ears," Davey answers like it's obvious. "I'll be right back." Brow furrowed, Jack settles down into the mattress and closes his eyes. The light is starting to prod at the ache in his head, coupled up with the layers of noise coming from throughout the building. At least the bitter scent of chlorine is almost completely gone.

Davey's steps are a familiar sound as he pads back into the bedroom, returning to his seat on the edge of the bed. "Sit up a sec," Davey instructs, and he reaches passed Jack to open the drawer of his bedside table. "Take one of these and then I promise you can just lay down the rest of the day." 

"Youse gettin' as bad as Spot, you know," Jack comments as he pushes up onto his elbows. Still, he accepts the pill and glass of water that Davey hands him. Once he's thrown back the capsule, Jack sets the empty glass on the side table and then flops down into the pillow again. 

"Someone's got to keep an eye on you," Davey says, and Jack can hear his smile. "You're hopeless sometimes." Jack whips his tail up to smack Davey and the other boy yelps. "Hey, you got my shirt all wet," he protests. 

"Guess you'll just have to take it off," Jack replies with a grin. 

"You're lucky you're cute," says Davey. "Here, tip your head to the side, let's try and get some of that water out of your ears." 

Jack eyes the little plastic cup of clear, bubbling liquid that Davey's holding. "By puttin' more water in?" he asks skeptically. 

"Mixed with peroxide," Davey counters. "It'll help dry them out. Didn't you ever do this growing up?" Jack shakes his head. "My parents used to do this for Les all the time because he always got annoyed being left out when the cousins had cannonball contests." 

Snorting, Jack nods. "I am pretty good at cannonballs," he muses playfully. 

Davey moves the pillow and prods Jack's head, making him turn to rest one cheek on the mattress. Picking up the tiny cup in one hand, he grabs a washcloth in the other. "It helps, I promise," Davey says when he sees Jack's wary expression. Jack lets out a breath and swivels his ear to face upward, giving Davey better access. "It's gonna feel weird for a sec," Davey warns, then carefully pours a bit of the liquid into Jack's ear. 

The sensation is a shock, and Jack flinches. It feels unnaturally cold, sending a shiver through him, and the peroxide bubbles loudly in his ear canal. Gritting his teeth, Jack makes an agitated noise, and can't resist the instinct to flick his ear against the intrusive feeling. "I know, sorry," Davey says gently, one hand settled between Jack's shoulders while the other holds the washcloth against the opening of his ear. "Just a sec longer." 

"It's loud," says Jack, wincing. The fizzing sound is reverberating inside his skull, static in his brain that joins forces with his headache. 

"Yeah, I know," Davey says sympathetically. Still clutching the washrag to Jack's ear, he says, "Okay, flip your head to the other side." 

Jack gratefully turns his head, flattening his ear to the mattress on top of the washcloth. He can feel the peroxide rolling out across the delicate hairs to seep into the cloth, and he exhales in relief when the bubbling noise fades to the occasional faint pop. "That felt so weird," he says. 

"It's a lot better than getting an ear infection though," Davey rebuts, then leans down to press a tender kiss to the edge of Jack's jaw.

"Good point," Jack agrees, wincing. He's gotten two of those in his life, and both times were agony, the burning, pounding pain in his sensitive inner ears practically crippling him for days. 

"Does it feel like your ear's done draining?" Davey asks. "Ready to try the other one?" 

"Might as well get it ova with," Jack says. He pulls the washcloth out from under his head, and Davey climbs over the top of Jack to sit on his other side. "But afta puttin' me through this, I 'spect some serious snuggles." 

Davey smiles, those tiny furrows blooming at the corners of his sparkling eyes. "I think I can do that," he concedes. He holds up the cup, waiting for Jack's nod, and then tips the peroxide into his ear. Jack's more prepared for it this time, and he doesn't jump as bad, but the hiss of the peroxide is still deafening. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to focus on only the soothing brush of Davey's hand rubbing his back. 

Tapping his cheek to prompt him, Davey gestures for him to roll his head the other way and Jack breathes out, relieved, as he settles his cheek on the bed. "There, see, all done," Davey says. His hand moves from sweeping between Jack's shoulder blades to gliding the length of his spine, and Jack arches into the touch, an instinct he's mostly stopped being ashamed of because he can convince himself it's a normal human reaction to lean into touch. 

"You're drying that tail before I cuddle you, though," says Davey, playfully tweaking the end of Jack's tail. 

"I don't wanna," Jack complains. "Too much work." He rubs the washcloth in his ear, wiping away the last of the moisture clinging to the hairs, and then drags the pillow back over to bury his face in it. 

He can actually hear the hesitation before Davey says, "I could do it." 

Jack licks his lips. It's not that he doesn't trust Davey. There's probably no one he trusts more with his tail, if he's honest. It's just not something he's ever let someone else do, protective when it comes to the task of grooming the vulnerable appendage. The thick fur can snarl so easily as it's drying and he hates his fur being pulled, let alone a fist closing around his tail to wring the water out. 

"Sure, if ya don't mind your hands smellin' like wet fur," Jack responds, playing it off with the joke to mask his nerves. 

Davey, unsurprisingly, isn't fooled. He climbs off the bed and kneels down, putting him level to kiss Jack affectionately. "I did promise I'd let you just lay down the rest of the day," he says, smiling. Stealing one more kiss, he stands and leaves the room. It's only a minute later that he comes back with a towel and a comb. Davey sits on the bed, and Jack drops his tail on the bed in front of him.

It eases the knot in Jack's chest at how gentle Davey's touch is. He carefully squeezes with the towel, absorbing as much of the water from the fur as he can, but he never grips tight enough to make Jack's heart skip. Once he's done with that, Davey spreads the damp towel on his lap and cradles Jack's tail in one hand while he slowly teases the comb through the fur. 

"It always amazes me how thick your fur is," Davey admits in amusement. "It looks so sleek, but there's just so much fur." 

"Got that sneaky undercoat," Jack says with a smirk. "And stupid thing been sheddin'." 

"Yay for the change of seasons," Davey says sarcastically, dragging a laugh from Jack. 

Now that he's getting used to the feeling, Jack actually kind of likes the soft gestures of Davey's fingers against his tail. His headache medicine always makes him sleepy, and it's definitely started kicking in now. He closes his eyes, sinking into the comfort of the bed and familiar smells and Davey's touch. Jack doesn't even notice that he's started to doze until the bed shifts and he flutters his eyes open. 

"Better?" asks Davey. 

Jack flicks his tail, pleased that the weight of added water is mostly gone. When he sweeps his tail up where he can see, the damp fur is smoothed down, only the longer white part at the end still a bit curled at the tips. "Mm, youse good at that," Jack says approvingly. 

"Your tail's nowhere near as hard to dry out as Les'," Davey replies, grinning. He drops the towel and comb lazily over the bedside and then crawls up to lay down with Jack. Davey's barely got the blankets pulled up over them before Jack shifts to curl up into his favorite spot. "How's your headache?" 

"Not too bad," Jack admits. It's true; there's still that dull stab at the base of his skull, and high sounds are a bit louder than usual, but they've managed to hedge it off before it became a full-blown migraine. He nuzzles into Davey's shoulder, breathing in the scent of his soap and something uniquely Davey, and it's a comforting familiarity that helps ease the tension from his muscles. Jack presses a kiss to Davey's collarbone. "Ya take good care'a me." 

"About time I return the favor, right?" Davey says. His fingers knead gently at the back of Jack's head, scratching his scalp and rubbing at the spot where his headache is settled. "You've taken care of me so much lately." 

"I like to," Jack says simply. 

Davey kisses Jack between the ears. "I do too." 

Jack glances at Davey's arm that's resting on his stomach, and Jack brushes his fingers over the skin. It's pale and thin even for Davey, the skin almost ghostly white and muscles softened after months in a cast. The felisian traces a fingertip around the large scar a third of the way up his arm, a jagged mark from where the broken bone came through his skin. "Ain't you supposed to put your brace thing back on?" Jack asks curiously. 

"Probably," Davey agrees. He'd taken it off for swimming because he's not supposed to get it wet. "I'll put it on later. I wouldn't want to make you move now that you're all settled down." It's an excuse and Jack knows it; Davey hates wearing it if he can get away with it, enjoying the freedom of having his arm finally out of its cage. "Now shush, you need to sleep off that headache." 

Chuckling, Jack wraps himself tighter around Davey, absorbing his body heat. "Yes'sir," he mumbles blearily. He shifts his head, pressing an ear flat to Davey's chest so that all of the other sounds in the world are drowned out by the beat of his heart. Jack smiles and folds his other ear back, burrowing himself into the soothing rhythm. It's a slow, steady metronome, a soft pulse of life beneath Davey's skin, and it gives Jack a safe place to retreat from everything else. 

"Love you," Jack says sleepily.

"Love you too, Jacky," Davey replies. He keeps carding one hand into Jack's hair, the other drawing idle patterns on Jack's arm. 

Jack's head is sore, the sensory migraine lingering there and waiting for the chance to surge forward, but Jack has found a sanctuary to hide in. He breathes in the warmth of Davey's skin mingled with Jack's soap and the feel of Davey's gentle touch and the sound of his steadily pounding heart. Smiling, Jack sinks into it all. 

There's a lot of misconceptions people make about Jack because of his ears and tail, but he can grudgingly admit there are a few things they aren't entirely wrong about. He does love when he gets to be the center of his human's attention, and he tilts his head to nudge Davey's fingers closer to that spot beneath his ear that turns his bones to Jell-o. So maybe he doesn't like the idea of people petting him, expecting him to purr, but Davey is the exception to that. Jack grins lazily, drifting off with a quiet rumble in his ribs.

**Author's Note:**

> PSA: Please take great care with water around your pets' ears. It can cause serious infections and damage if not taken care of. Never put _anything_ in your pets' ears without consulting with a vet first. You might think you're helping and only make it worse, and animals need their ears far more than humans do.


End file.
